A Witch and Three Potions
by JjRavenclawFromDistrict11
Summary: The Winchesters and Cas go to hunt down a witch. It should be an easy job, but then it isn't and they each get a potion to the face. Sam's hair won't stop growing, Dean is making drunk passes at Cas, and the angel keeps accidentally teleporting to Legoland. DESTIEL & SEASON 8 SPOILERS.
1. The Case

**CONTAINS SEASON 8 SPOILERS**

**This story doesn't necessarily occur within the Supernatural timeline. It could be considered part of an alternate season 9 where Sam recovered from the trials fine and Cas kept Metatron from screwing Heaven over so the angels never fell (and Cas didn't become human). **

…

_**Chapter 1: **_

_**The Case**_

…

It should have been an easy job. But then, nearly every job the Winchesters worked seemed to be more complicated than it looked. Usually, though, they come out winners.

Not this time.

It was in a small town just outside San Diego, California. Sam and Dean had been tracking some demon activity with Cas' help. After dispatching a particularly violent group of demons, they went back to their hotel room to get a decent night of sleep and to find another case.

Dean was cleaning various pieces of weaponry which had been neglected recently while Sam was doing the researching, as usual. Since Cas didn't have anything to do, he helped with the research by going through the obituaries in various San Diego newspapers.

It took less than ten minutes to find a case.

"I believe I've found something," Cas said mildly. "On Tuesday, a police officer died of blood loss from what appeared to be a paper-cut."

"Anything else?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. "Nothing of importance."

"I'll check online- see if any other weird things have gone down recently."

After a few minutes more, Sam said, "I don't see any other bodies here, but two other towns nearby have had weird deaths in the past week. Last Wednesday, a high school kid died when an unscheduled train hit him while he was crossing the tracks. And then, on Friday, a woman died while getting an X-ray because the radiation went out of control and burned her."

"Sound witchy," Dean remarked.

"Definitely," Sam agreed. "Let's check it out."

…

After a couple days, Sam and Dean still had almost nothing to go on. The policeman was a great, upstanding citizen, and he did his job well. The woman was a dentist with a husband and a few kids. The teen had normal parents, normal friends, normal everything. There was no link between the three at all, and no motive.

"Maybe our witch is just bored. I mean, witches can get bored, right?"

"Yeah, but even then they have a system for choosing the vics," Sam told him.

"I don't know, man. It's just not adding up. Maybe it's more than one?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so. The hex bags we found looked pretty identical."

Dean groaned, "Well we have to do something!"

"We could visit the houses of the deceased," Cas suggested.

"We did that already, Cas," Dean told him irritably.

"Yes, but did you check their vehicles?"

"Their… why would we check their cars? I mean, they all shared their cars with their family, so there's no way anything would be in there."

Cas shrugged, "People often hide their deepest secrets in places no one would think to look."

"The best place to hide is I plain sight," muttered Sam. "It's worth a try."

So the trio of hunters, or rather, the duo and an angel, went back to search the victims' cars.

…

Flashing fake F.B.I. badges and reassuring the policeman's wife that they were just doing a routine search, they took the keys and began looking around.

For a while, it seemed Cas was wrong, and that there wasn't anything to find.

But then Dean shouted, "Holy crap! Sammy, you won't believe this!"

"What?"

Dean walked over to Sam and Cas, showing them a plain black lunchbox. "I found this under the passenger's seat."

He tossed it to Sam, who caught it and then asked, "Is there something in it?" When Dean didn't answer, he opened it with a puzzled look.

At first, he couldn't see anything inside, but then his eyes caught on a small tear in the lining. He slid a finger inside the tear, pulling out a Ziplock full of white powder and labeled "Evidence".

"Is this what I think it is?" Sam asked.

"Cocaine. Apparently, our cop friend here was not quite the upstanding citizen we thought he was."

…

They went to the dentist's house next.

After briefly searching the woman's car, they found a cheap phone that had dozens of calls and texts to someone named "Andy."

"Think she was having an affair?" Sam asked.

Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah well, I'm not sure how many interpretations there are for, 'I'm sooo horny-how soon can you be here?' "

Sam wrinkled his nose, "Point taken."

…

Finally, they searched the teen boy's car. However, they weren't quite so lucky with this one.

"There's nothing here," Dean growled, kicking the car in frustration.

Sam shrugged, "The other two had tangible secrets, and they wanted to keep them close-by. Maybe Sean's secret is a little less obvious."

"Well then how do you suppose we-"

"Dean," Cas said suddenly.

Sam and Dean quieted, looking toward Cas.

"Up in the window of that house. There was a girl watching us."

"And?" Dean prompted.

"She was crying. I believe she may have known Sean."

"Ah. Ok. Well then, let's go talk to her."

They walked across the narrow street and up to the door. Before they knocked, Sam said hesitantly, "Maybe you guys should go work more on finding a connection between the policeman and the dentist. It'll only take one of us to talk to the girl and I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Come on!" Dean protested, "I hate research! Why can't I do it? Or Cas, for that matter"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "No offense, but neither of you know how to talk to people."

Dean huffed, "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam returned.

"You two have a very strange relationship," Cas put in.

Dean rolled his eyes and led Cas away, muttering something about needing pie.

Sam watched them walk off and then stepped up to the door. It took a few moments after he knocked for the girl to respond.

"Can I help you?"

Sam introduced himself and flashed his badge.

"I was hoping you could tell me a little about Sean Peterson," he told her.

"What makes you think I knew him?"

"You were neighbors. I'm sure you talked from time to time."

"Not really."

There was a long pause, and then she said, "We went on a few dates after I moved here freshman year. He was a jerk. And now he's dead, and I hate myself for hating him."

"What did he do that made you hate him so much?" Sam asked.

She didn't answer, and then Sam remembered that they were standing in her doorway. He gestured outside and asked, "Care to sit?"

She followed him and they sat on the steps together.

"You can tell me," Sam said gently. "Whatever it is."

She seemed conflicted but finally said, "Sean didn't respect boundaries. If you didn't give him what he wanted, he took it."

"Did he rape you?" Sam asked quietly.

She didn't answer, and her eyes looked anywhere but at him.

"I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do."

"Me too."

Sam hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You said that you hate yourself for hating him. What did you mean?"

She looked up with a slight frown. "I hate who he was and… what he did. But everyone's so sad about him being gone that I feel guilty for not being sad, you know? They're all so devastated because he'll never have a future, but I'm honestly relieved because it means he won't hurt anyone else."

After a brief pause, she added, "Does that make me a bad person?"

Sam shook his head, "No. Definitely not."

She smiled a little and he grinned back, "Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it."

She nodded, "Thanks for listening."

…

**A/N:**

**This fic will be nine-ten chapters long. I'll be updating twice a week: on Mondays and Fridays. **

**Most of it will be the effects of various potions on Sam, Dean, and Cas that the witch (who the guys will encounter in the next chapter) throws on them. It's part humor, part mystery, and part Destiel. Not much action. **

**I always love getting reviews, so if you have the time, I'd like to hear from you!**


	2. Quest Car Detailing

_**Chapter 2: **_

_**Quest Car Detailing**_

…

"So we're dealing with some kind of vigilante witch," Dean commented. "The problem is, how do we find the bastard?"

Cas shrugged and Sam said, "I don't know. We could let this one go, you know. I mean, these people were total dicks."

"So they deserved to die?" Dean challenged.

"Of course not. But do you think they deserved to live?"

In the heavy silence that followed that, Cas murmured, "It is not your job to decide who lives and who dies. We find the witch. Justice has a way of being served eventually."

…

It took the brothers a surprisingly short while to piece it together.

"Whoever it was had to have access to their vehicles", Cas suggested.

"Except for that kid, Sean," Sam added. "The witch must have known the girl I talked to. Her name was Danna, I think. Danna Quest."

Dean's eyes widened, "Quest? Like… Quest Car Detailing?"

Sam's eyes lit up, "You think her family runs it?"

"Probably," Dean answered. Then he frowned, "Sam, are you sure it wasn't Danna that did this?"

"I'm positive. You should have seen her face, Dean. Trust me, it wasn't her."

Dean shrugged, "If you say so. Besides, if she helps out at the car place, she'd know the employees pretty well. She could have told one of them."

"Good point. We might want to check the place out."

After quickly confirming that Quest Car Detailing was, in fact, run by Dana's family, the men set out to investigate the place.

Leaving Cas as lookout, Sam and Dean went inside the office building. It was two stories, so they split up, with Sam taking the upper floor and Dean taking the main.

They searched around for a while, not knowing quite what they were looking for, when Dean noticed a groove in the wall onside a janitorial closet. It was about the size of a door. After feeling around a bit more, he found a row of hooks holding various sprays and things. One hook was unoccupied. He tugged at it and the secret door swung open.

He stepped outside the closet, calling out, "Sam! I think I found something!"

Sam came down the stairs and Dean showed him the secret door. On the other side of it, they discovered a staircase that went down.

Dean sent a short prayer to Cas, letting him know what they found, and where they were going. Then, with hands on their guns, the men descended.

A quick glance around told them that the space was an apartment of sorts. There was a small kitchen, a dining table with four mismatched chairs, a living area with a TV, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

After searching the bedrooms and bathroom, Sam and Dean came to a thin door in the hallway, which they guessed was a closet. The door was locked, but Dean picked it without much trouble.

Inside, they found not a small linen closet, as they'd thought, but a spacious walk-in closet. The walls were lined with shelves containing bottles and bins and boxes full of all sorts of things. Dean gestured to a hat box with tiny bones in it.

"I think we found our witch."

Sam chuckled, "No kidding."

Cas appeared next to them, making both brothers jump.

"Damnit, Cas," Dean muttered.

"Something's wrong," Cas murmured with a concerned look.

Suddenly, a wind swooped in from behind. The three men turned around, only to be splashed in the face with thick potions. Momentarily blinded, they could only hear the witch's mad cackling in the moments before he was gone again, leaving just a whoosh of wind as he vanished.

Dean wiped some of a burnt-orange colored potion from his eyes. He looked over at Sam, who was glaring at the bright pink sludge in his hair (which was also on his face and shirt). Cas had used his angel mojo to remove most of a blue-grey potion from his face and neck, but there was still a bit in his hair and on his trench coat.

Dean started cracking up at Sam, who did not appear amused.

"This is bad," he said, making Dean laugh even harder.

"We should stay here until we know what effect these potions have," Cas said. "There may be some information in this closet, or perhaps other potions to counter their effects."

Sam nodded, "Alright. I don't think the witch will be back any time soon, so we should be safe. Though we might want to get some security cameras just in case."

"I'll retrieve your things from the motel," Cas said, and then he was gone.

Sam looked over at Dean and told him, "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Check around in here, see if there's anything useful."

...

A little over five minutes later, Sam got out of the shower and towel-dried his hair. Except his hair didn't stop where it was supposed to. He traced his fingers down to find that his hair was at least half a foot longer than it had been when he got into the shower. He checked in the mirror to be sure he wasn't just imagining it, and the image staring back at him confirmed the rapid hair growth.

Sam frowned and pulled a towel around his waist, hoping Dean had found something.

When he got out of the shower, he found Dean not in the closet, but in the kitchen eating what looked like Cocoa Puffs.

"What are you doing?"

"Eating," Dean replied through a spoonful of cereal.

Sam gave him a weird look, and then Cas showed up. Not just appearing by them, as usual, but walking in the front door looking rather haggard.

"Cas? What's going on?"

"I believe there may be something wrong with me," Cas told him. "When I tried to go to your motel room, I ended up… elsewhere. About ten miles from here in an amusement park where everything was built from plastic bricks. I believe they're called Legos."

"You popped into Legoland?"

"Yes."

"That's… weird."

"Indeed," Cas agreed. "And when I tried again, I found myself in the middle of a very busy street. Every time I tried to, as you call it "teleport", somewhere, I ended up somewhere else. A few moments ago, by some stroke of luck, I landed at a gas station about a mile away. I walked back from there."

"Geez. I'm glad you're okay, buddy."

"CAS! Where've you been?" Dean called out. Or rather, slurred.

"Dean, are you… drunk?" Sam asked confusedly.

"I dunno, Sammy. I do not know."

"He certainly appears to be intoxicated," Cas noted, "perhaps that is the effect of his potion."

Sam groaned, "Great. So you randomly teleport to Disneyland, Dean's drunk, and my hair is growing an inch a minute."

"We should work on finding a cure quickly. I don't like the way Dean's acting."

Currently, Dean was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, but at the mention of his name, he turned and grinned cheekily at Cas.

"I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated by your presence."

Cas looked to Sam, not quite understanding.

"Oh God," Sam said, realization dawning. "I forgot that Dean flirts when he's drunk. We need to fix this. NOW."

…

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	3. Flirty Drunk

_**Chapter 3:**_

_**Flirty Drunk**_

…

The next day, Sam, Dean, and Cas were sorting through the closet together. Or… trying to.

Dean wasn't much help, due to his drunkenness, and Cas kept getting distracted by Dean's attempts at flirtation. Sam, who'd had to get up every hour or so during the night to cut his hair, was tired and getting increasingly irritable.

Cas leaned down to get something from a lower shelf, and Dean whistled. "Did you sit in some sugar recently? 'Cause you've got a pretty sweet ass."

Cas frowned and Sam groaned. Slapping a hand to his forehead, he said, "That's it. I can't take this anymore. Both of you- get out. I'll do this alone."

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" Cas asked.

With a glance at Dean, Sam replied, "Positive. I can't handle drunk Dean any more, and I don't trust him alone. Someone has to make sure he doesn't go and do something really stupid."

Cas nodded, "Alright. You know where to find me if you need anything."

Cas led Dean out of the closet, and as they were leaving, Sam heard Dean say, "If being sexy was a crime, you'd be sooo guilty."

He grimaced and focused on the task at hand. The sooner he found a cure, the sooner this torture stopped.

…

Cas and Dean played cards for about half an hour, but Cas ended that when Dean suggested they play strip poker.

After that, they spent a few minutes trying to figure out how the TV worked. Cas finally gave up and, noticing it was around lunchtime, decided to make some sandwiches for the brothers. Though the fridge was hardly well-stocked, he managed to scrounge up the ingredients to make two PB&amp;Js. He handed one to Dean, who was still fiddling with the TV remote, and then went to go give Sam his sandwich.

"Thanks," Sam said tiredly. His hair, though he'd cut it 45 minutes previous, was hanging past his knees.

"Here, " Cas offered, "Let me help you with that."

Letting his angle blade drop into his hand, he gathered Sam's hair and sheared it off at the back of his neck.

Sam smiled at him gratefully, running his hands through his newly shortened hair. Cas took the old hair into the kitchen, where he stuffed it into a plastic bag.

He felt Dean move close to him and frowned, turning to face the hunter.

"Are you sunburnt, or are you always this…" He traced a finger down Cas's arm seductively, "hot?"

"Dean!" Cas scolded, stepping away from him.

Dean laughed and strutted away, setting himself back on the couch. Apparently, he'd figured out how the TV worked, and had started watching a show about house flippers.

Cas sat down on an armchair, wishing there was something helpful he could do,.

The two sat in silence for almost an hour, just watching the show, and then Dean suddenly sat up. "Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Oh, wait. Never mind. I think it was just the sound of me falling for you," Dean said with a grin.

Cas sighed loudly and got up to see Sam.

"Maybe I should look for a while," he suggested to the younger Winchester.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "And leave me with Dean?"

"You're brothers," Cas reminded him. "I think you'll be safe from his… advances."

"True," Sam acknowledged. "And you probably need a break. I guess I can watch Dean for a while."

He walked off to babysit Dean while Cas began sorting through a few boxes that Sam had pulled out. About an hour into his search, Cas found what appeared to be a spellbook. In his excitement, his wings swung up, accidently taking him away, onto the roof of the Impala. Thankful that Quest Car Detailing was closed on Sundays, he hopped off and headed back inside.

Sam gave him a funny look when he came down the stairs.

"I accidently…teleported," Cas explained, the word feeling strange on his tongue. "I found something," he added, holding the book out.

Sam's eyes widened. "Really? That's great!"

With a hint of a smile, Cas showed him the spellbook.

Sam's brow furrowed, "What language is this?"

"It seems to be written in Enochian."

"Oh. Well I can't read it. Do you mind doing it? I can keep searching the closet while you hang out here with Dean and check out the book."

Cas hesitated and Sam laughed, "Relax, Cas. Dean's asleep." He gestured to Dean's sleeping form, which was curled up in the armchair. "You should be fine for a couple hours."

Cas nodded, relieved, and took the book back from Sam.

"In that case, I'd be happy to. But I think it would be wise for you to get some rest. You look like terrible."

"Gee, thanks, " Sam said sarcastically, but he followed Cas's advice anyway, heading into "his room" to take a nap.

Cas settled down on the couch to look through the book. As an afterthought, he got a pad of paper to write anything important down.

It was a long while before Dean woke up, and Cas didn't immediately notice when he did.

Dean blinked a few times, and then said, simply, "Hi."

Cas glanced over and smiled, glad that, for once, Dean wasn't spouting another cheesy pickup line. Dean walked over and sat next to him, quietly watching Cas read.

Then, apparently bored of that, he licked his thumb and touched it to his jeans, repeating the action with Cas's slacks.

Cas looked at him questioningly.

"We should get out of these wet clothes," Dean said suggestively.

"That is inappropriate," Cas muttered.

Grinning, Dean moved his hand toward Cas's belt. The angel made a high pitched noise and scooted away.

Dean pouted, "Come on, Cas…"

"NO," Cas said, frustrated. "Having intercourse would be… a mistake. Especially considering your current state. You don't know what you want right now."

Dean's eyes grew cold. "Screw you, Cas. You know what, I was just having a little fun. Maybe you should get out."

Cas looked at him incredulously and then, without really thinking, opened his wings. Though he'd only meant to go outside, he ended up in Legoland again.

Looking around at the oblivious bystanders, Cas sighed.

"Oh well. I guess they can call if they need me."

…

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	4. Sampunzel

_**Chapter 4:**_

_**Sampunzel**_

…

At first, it was almost funny. And then it wasn't.

Their first night in the witch's lair, Sam let his hair grow until it reached the floor, which he found out took a little under an hour.

Dean had taken one look at Sam's ridiculously long hair and had burst out laughing, screeching, "Cas, look! It's Sampunzel!"

After that, Sam started cutting his hair every 30-45 minutes, and every hour during the night. Because of that, sleeping was difficult. It seemed like every time he finally fell asleep, his alarm went off and it was time to cut his hair again. It was always tempting to leave it be for longer, but Sam figured if he let it grow too long while he was sleeping, it might very well strangle him.

He hadn't been sleeping well during the last hunt, for no particular reason, so by now he really felt dead. His first night after he'd been hit with the potion, Sam had slept less than four hours. He probably could've gotten a little more sleep, but he got frustrated around 3am and decided to just stay up.

Later that day, he was really regretting that decision, so when Cas told him to take a nap, he really didn't have the energy to argue. He slept for two hours, getting up halfway through to cut his hair. Still, it wasn't really enough.

He sheared off a good six feet of hair and hoped Cas had found something useful. However, when he came out of his room to talk to Cas about the spellbook, he found that the angel was gone.

"Dean? Where's Cas?"

Dean shrugged at him innocently, "He just poofed out."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Dean said defensively.

"Great," Sam groaned. "Now we have no one to read the book."

"Are you suggesting that I can't read?" Dean accused.

With an epic bitchface, Sam returned, "I don't know, Dean, can you read Enochian?"

Dean's mouth opened, as if to say something, but it took him a moment to voice a reply. Finally, he said, "Maybe."

Sam rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to get some food. Unfortunately, there really wasn't much there other than bread and peanut butter.

"Dean, we need to go get food."

"YES!" Dean yelled, punching a fist into the air. "Can we get pie?"

"Sure. Just… come on. I don't want to be gone long."

The brothers went through a McDonald's drive-thru, Sam ordering a lite Caesar salad and Dean getting two Big Macs with a large fries. They stopped at a Shari's as well, to get a slice of apple pie for Dean. At the last minute, Sam decided to get some for himself, and bought a slice of lemon merengue.

As they were pulling back into the parking lot across the street from Quest Car Detailing, Sam recalled that tomorrow (Monday) the store would be open, so they'd have to stay inside all day. He turned around and stopped at a convenience store to get a few cans of soup, some cereal, milk, and hot dogs. After he paid, he returned to find that Dean had already finished off his meal and was staring longingly at the pie.

"We'll be back in a few minutes," Sam reassured him.

Dean adopted a sad puppy-dog look, and Sam sighed. "Fine. Use my salad fork."

Grinning triumphantly, Dean took Sam's fork and dug into his slice of apple pie. By the time they got back to their parking space, Dean had finished his dessert.

"You're disgusting," Sam told him.

Dean merely shrugged.

They went back inside, and Sam let Dean settle down to watch TV before going to eat his own dinner.

The salad was mediocre, but even he had to admit the pie was amazing. He suddenly understood Dean's obsession with it.

Of course, his hair was getting obscenely long again. He used the kitchen scissors to cut it off, then took the hair into his room, putting it into a garbage bag which he'd slowly been filling.

He went back out to find Dean starting to doze off. He made him get up and go to his room, which was next to Sam's. Dean fell asleep almost immediately once he hit the mattress, and Sam wished he could do the same.

Instead, he went back to the closet to look for… something. Anything.

He briefly considered calling Cas, but figured he was probably okay, and was just working on getting back from wherever he'd teleported to last.

Sam searched the closet for a few hours, then took a break to shower. The hot water felt nice on his head, which was killing him. He imagined it was because of the weight of his ever-growing hair.

After his shower, which was longer than usual, Sam spent another hour or so in the closet. Still, he found nothing. His eyelids were beginning to droop, and even though it was early, he decided to turn in.

…

The next time Sam opened his eyes, it wasn't to an alarm, which was the first wrong thing. Besides that, there was an enormous weight on his chest. He turned his head and saw that the time on the nightstand clock read 10:00am.

He inhaled sharply and tried to push himself up, but found that his body was too weighed down, and his arms seemed strapped to his sides. He managed to lift his head, which told him that, while no one had bound him, he was most definitely stuck. A mound of dark brown hair encircled his upper body and legs, and it piled on top of his chest and stomach. He tried to wriggle out of it, but it was no use. He couldn't even reach the scissors on the nightstand.

He did a quick mental calculation to find out how long his hair was.

"Holy crap," he muttered to himself. "It's gotta be, what, 70 feet long by now."

He tried to think. Dean was in the next room, but was piss drunk. He was probably sober enough to handle scissors, but Dean slept like a rock even when he wasn't drunk. Sam doubted that he could do anything that would wake his brother. So, instead, he sent Cas a prayer for help.

"Hey, Cas. I'm in a bit of a situation over here. I'm kind of trapped… in my hair. If you could just hurry up and help, that's be great. Um… Amen."

Sam sighed and stared at the ceiling.

"Dean!" he yelled, in case his brother happened to be awake. But, of course, he wasn't, which left only Cas.

Sam wondered how long it would take the angel to get there. Hopefully not too long. He'd really hate to die strangled by his hair.

…

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	5. Angelic Help

_**Chapter 5:**_

_**Angelic Help**_

…

Cas had spent the rest of the day exploring Legoland, and then, when it had closed, he'd simply wandered around San Diego.

He was standing in front of a movie theater, wondering what it would be like to see a film, when he heard Sam's prayer.

"_Hey, Cas. I'm in a bit of a situation over here. I'm kind of trapped… in my hair. If you could just hurry up and help, that's be great. Um… Amen_."

Cas cocked his head. Sam's request sounded urgent, but he had no money for a cab. His only option, as far as he could tell, was to fly.

Though it wouldn't have been his first choice, he decided to go for it. He stretched his wings, and swooped them down, aiming for the witch's lair. He didn't end up there, which he'd guessed would happen, but he did at least end up close.

He saw a car approaching and noticed that he was in the middle of the road. Chastising himself for his stupidity, he leapt aside. The car screeched around him, and then halted a little ways past him.

The driver- a teenage girl- jumped out and ran over.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, looking worried.

"I'm fine," Cas answered. "I'm sorry for… jumping out like that."

The girl smiled, "I'm just glad you're not hurt. You in a hurry?"

"I'm trying to get to my friend. I fear he may have gotten himself into a mess."

"Is he near here?"

"He's by Quest Car Detailing," Cas answered.

"I could take you."

Cas shook his head, "It's alright, I don't mind walking. It's only a few miles."

"Please- I insist. Especially if it's only a few miles."

"Well… thank you, then."

She took him to the place, dropping him off in the parking lot before pulling away. Cas rushed to the door, heaving a relieved sigh when he found out that it didn't open for another hour.

He used a bit of his Grace to get the door open and went down to the lair.

"Sam?" he called out.

A muffled noise came from Sam's room, and Cas went in.

Inside, Sam was a mess of brown hair.

"Thank God," Sam breathed upon seeing him. "The scissors are on the dresser."

Cas took the scissors and frowned at Sam's hair, trying to decide where to start. Finally, he just pulled Sam's head forward and cut it off there. Then he sliced down his side, so he wasn't being confined by the long strands. Cas shoved the pile of hair off Sam and onto the floor. With a little help, Sam got out of the mess.

"Thanks, Cas."

The angel shrugged nonchalantly.

Sam begun cleaning up the hair, untangling pieces that clung to him, and Cas offered to bring in some trash bags.

When he returned with the bags, Sam was fiddling with the alarm clock.

"This was the problem," he told Cas. "The power must have shut off last night, and it reset, so my alarm didn't go off. And it's like 8:30, not 10."

He pressed a few buttons and grinned. Cas supposed he must have set the clock to the right time.

Sam took the trash bags from Cas and asked, "Did you find anything in that spellbook?"

"No. I'll begin working on that again momentarily."

"Okay. I'll work on cleaning this mess up."

Cas walked out of the room and found the book on the kitchen table. He pulled a chair aside and flipped the book open. He was about to sit when a sneeze made his wings spasm and carry him elsewhere.

His brain took a moment to register where he was, and when he did, he reeled backwards.

He'd "teleported" to another room of the lair. Dean's room.

The sandy-haired hunter was only about two inches from Cas when he landed.

Dean had only just gotten up, but he acted quickly, instinctively. As Cas backed up, he surged forward, reaching out to pull Cas close.

Their lips smashed together, and though Cas's first instinct was to push him away, he didn't. Using his wings would be a bad idea, as there was no way of knowing where he'd end up, and he might end up taking Dean with him. He could push the hunter away, but Dean was strong. Not that Cas couldn't do it, but he hated the idea of physically forcing Dean from him.

Besides, as long as nothing serious happened, it was okay. Right?

Cas couldn't dwell on his thoughts for long, as his awareness was quickly pulled into the physical realm.

Dean's hands were at the back of his ribs, pulling them together. Cas's own hands were pressed against Dean's chest, neither fighting nor encouraging the current course of action.

Cas had little experience with anything like this, and none with a man, but it didn't seem much different than with women. Dean's mouth was pressing against his, and it was soft. It felt good.

Dean began sucking on Cas's lower lip, and all thoughts of the spellbook and the potions were cast from the angel's mind. He took handfuls of Dean's shirt, pulling him even closer. Dean smiled against his mouth, and his hands slid to Cas's hips.

Cas felt… he couldn't identify the feeling. He felt hot. But not in a bad way. And he felt like there was something moving in his chest. Also not in a bad way. It sort of tickled, actually. Like his Grace was dancing inside him.

Cas's lips parted with Dean's, and he explored the other's mouth.

Dean's chest was heaving, and he pulled away momentarily. He pulled Cas's trenchcoat and suit jacket off, violently throwing them away.

Before Dean could return his lips to Cas's, the angel pressed his lips to Dean's neck. As he worked on the area, Dean panted, pulling at Cas's shirt buttons impatiently.

"I think it's time you teach me about the Pizza Man," Dean murmured.

…

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	6. Scarred for Life

_**Chapter 6:**_

_**Scarred for Life**_

…

Sam was cutting up sections of his sheared hair, so it would be easier to stuff them in bags. There wasn't much left, but as he was stuffing the last of it into a trash bag, he heard a huge crash coming from Dean's room.

Bolting upright, he grabbed his gun from under his pillow and ran out, over to Dean's door. The door was cracked open already, so Sam only had to nudge it open.

Inside was… well…

Not a threat, at least.

Dean was in the corner. Making out with Cas.

Cas was pressed against the wall, hands in Dean's short hair. One of Dean's hands was on Cas's waist, thumb through one of his belt loops. The angel's shirt was hanging unbuttoned, his tie loose, and his trench coat nowhere to be seen. Dean's shirt almost looked like it had been ripped off.

A tall lamp, apparently the sound of the crash, lay broken on the ground.

Sam took all of this in in a few moments, only able to let out a loud screech of shock when he found his voice.

Apparently, the noise scared Cas so much that he teleported away, and Dean was suddenly standing there alone, simply leaning against the wall.

He turned to Sam, looking pissed, and then the room's small closet opened. Cas stumbled out of it, looking embarrassed. Dean's gaze lingered on Cas, his eyes longing, but then he looked back at Sam, giving him a death glare.

Not really knowing what to say or do, Sam just backed out the room slowly. He retreated to him room, sitting against the wall opposite the one touching Dean's room.

"Oh, God," he said, trying to erase the mental image.

It wasn't as if Sam hadn't seen Dean doing worse. I mean, Dean had hooked up with a lot of girls over the years, and sometimes he brought them back to their motel room while Sam was gone. And, on occasion, Sam would walk in before the girl had left. And while it was usually either before or after, Sam had walked in on Dean in the act a few times. But even then, he just jumped and slammed the door.

Now, they had an agreement, in which Dean had to text Sam if he was going to take a girl to their room. That way, it wasn't a problem anymore. And, fortunately, Dean at least had the courtesy to get himself off in the bathroom. Though, admittedly, Sam had walked in on that too.

This was different, though. I mean, sure it was a guy, and that was startling, but it was also Cas.

CAS.

Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

Sure, Sam had seen those looks between them. He'd thought a few times that there was something going on there. He'd watched them like a hawk, he'd investigated their… relationship because he knew he couldn't ask Dean about it. But there wasn't anything to find.

Maybe it was just Dean being Dean, or maybe it was Cas's lack of understanding about human customs. Though, Sam had noticed that his lack of personal space seemed to only apply to Dean.

And then there was that whole "profound bond" thing.

But Sam didn't think anything was going to happen. He knew it wasn't happening up to this point, or at least, he was pretty sure. After this long, he'd thought maybe he was wrong about the whole thing. Maybe he was totally misinterpreting their interactions. And even if he was right, he figured if they hadn't done anything by now, he doubted they ever would.

But here they were. One room away.

He really hoped they weren't going to have sex in the next room.

Sam cringed at the thought. He tried to think of something else, but his mind refused to be pulled off track.

He supposed this might also be because of the way Dean looked at the angel.

Dean loved his family. He loved John and Sam. And Bobby, who might as well have been family. But he didn't develop lasting attachments outside of family.

There was Lisa, but even that didn't last. Dean knew he couldn't have romantic ties to anyone. He went out of his way to push people away.

Except for Cas.

It occurred to Sam that most of their friends had died. Cas himself had died a few times. But then, Cas had come back. Sam remembered the way Dean looked when the Leviathans took over Cas's mind, when his body walked away and they both believed Cas to be dead. Cas's trenchcoat had come floating back and Dean had picked it up. He kept it in the Impala for a long while after that, almost like he knew Cas would be back.

Or perhaps it wasn't that he knew Cas would be back, but that he had to believe he would be. Maybe the thought of losing Cas was too much.

That proved true, too, when Dean escaped Purgatory without Cas. As Sam understood it, Dean remembered it being his fault, but it was Cas who let go. It was like Dean would rather bear the guilt than the knowledge that Cas didn't want to go without him.

Was Dean in love with Cas?

He couldn't be certain, but he'd definitely never seen Dean look at anyone the way he'd just looked at Cas.

Of course, Dean was also drunk.

Sam sighed and wished he could leave, but there would definitely be people here now. He found his duffel bag and pulled out an mp3 player. Pushing in earbuds, he turned the music up loud, so as to drown out his thoughts- and anything else that might be happening next door.

…

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	7. A Little Time to Think

_**Chapter 7:**_

_**A Little Time to Think**_

…

After Sam walked out, wide-eyed, Dean smirked and turned back to Cas.

"Where were we?" he asked suggestively.

Cas's heart was thumping, and he imagined that if he had to breathe, he'd have a rather difficult time doing so. He directed his eyes down, away from Dean's gaze, looking anywhere but at the hunter.

Cas began buttoning up his shirt, to which Dean complained, "What are you doing?"

Straightening his tie, the angel answered, "That was… nice… but I should probably go."

Dean's eyes met his for a moment, confused. Then he looked hurt. Cas looked away.

After looking around a bit, the angel finally found his suit jacket and trench coat. While Dean's gaze followed him, he swept the items up and put them on.

Cas decided it would be best to leave the lair altogether, at least until closing time. He raised his wings and soared, hoping he wouldn't end up in the path of an oncoming car (again).

And, while he didn't touch down in the middle of a road, Cas did still manage to find himself in an awkward situation.

When his eyes focused, they settled on what appeared to be a soap dish sunken into a tiled wall. Casting a glance around, he discovered that he was in a shower.

He pulled aside the curtain to step out, startling a man who was shaving at the sink. The man gave a startled cry, dropping the razor.

"Oh," Cas said dumbly, "This is awkward."

He stepped out of the shower and opened the bathroom door, muttering a brief apology as he exited the bathroom.

At that point, the man seemed to recover from the shock of finding a strange man in his shower.

"Get the hell out of here!" he yelled, which Cas found odd since he was doing that very thing already.

But the man chased him out of the hotel room he was staying in, as well as down a flight of stairs and a short hallway, all of which Cas thought was highly unnecessary. It wasn't until Cas had passed the reception desk and made it out the front doors that the man stopped, at which point he simply stood in the lobby firing expletives at the angel.

Cas supposed he could have flown out of the room, but he was afraid he'd only get himself into a worse mess if he did that. In fact, it would be in his best interests to still his wings until the effects of the potion either wore off or were reversed. It seemed like every time he took a gamble and spread his wings, he ended up worse off.

Cas settled into a brisk walk, trying to decide how to spend the afternoon. He had at least six hours to kill before Quest Car Detailing closed.

He wandered around for a bit, looking for something interesting. While doing so, he noticed a pair of men walking down the sidewalk together with their hands intertwined. Cas frowned.

While he had no personal opinion about people's sexual orientations, he had discovered a while ago that it was an important concept among humans. He assumed that trait extended even to the Winchesters.

He sighed, patronizing himself for giving in to Dean. The older Winchester, he knew, already struggled enough with his moral identity without having to worry about his sexual identity. And, while Cas certainly cared for Dean, more so than he cared to admit, he'd never wanted it to be like this. He'd meant to keep away from the hunter's drunken advances, as allowing anything of significance to occur while Dean was intoxicated would be wrong.

It had been easy at first, as Dean's odd flirtation only served to make the angel uncomfortable. Being in close proximity wasn't a problem either, as Cas tended to invade Dean's personal space on a regular basis anyway. It was the kiss that undid him, that clouded his judgment and made him forget his self-set restrictions.

Cas groaned in frustration and glanced toward a nearby bar.

Though his reasoning told him that drunkenness had been the initial cause of his problems, he really wanted a drink. He wanted a lot of drinks, to be honest. Alcoholic ones. Consuming mass amount of liquor would soften his inner conflict.

He tugged at the empty pocket linings of his trench coat with a frown, wishing he'd thought to borrow some money from the Winchesters.

With a sigh and a rueful glance at the bar, the angel turned and stalked away.

He spent a few hours at an animal shelter, taking dogs out and walking them around, as he knew they likely got little attention. Then, he returned to simply wandering, quietly observing street performers and the like.

Late in the day, a particular street artist caught his attention. The woman was dressed in a t-shirt and baggy overalls. Her sandy-colored dreadlocks were tied back with a small bit of string. Cas remembered a word Dean had uttered some time ago, "hippie", and it stuck in his mind as something that applied to her, though he wasn't sure why.

The woman was kneeling down on the pavement with a set of chalks. Cas tilted his head to see what she was creating, but even then the image wasn't clear to him.

The woman noticed Cas's curiosity and grinned at him.

"What is is?" Cas asked.

"It's… a song."

Cas's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

The woman chuckled at his baffled expression, then proceeded to explain, "Have you ever closed your eyes when you listen to music? There are so many things you can see: shapes, sparks of color, designs of all kinds in a dance. It's amazing."

Cas still didn't quite understand. How can you see so many things when one's eyes are closed? Evidently, his inner puzzlement was just as obvious as before.

The woman pointed to a colorful design that reminded Cas of a flower opening. "That's the melody", she informed him. "It's the centerpiece, the most important part of the song."

Cas nodded, beginning to understand the abstract idea.

She pointed to another part of the image, a faint line that warped in strange arcs around the melody and around the entire image. "That's the best, the thrum that lies in the background. It ties the whole song together."

The woman continued pointing out the different parts of the song, and though the concept was still foreign to Cas's mind, the angel recognized its beauty.

"It's beautiful, " he told her when she'd finished.

She blushed and then picked up a piece of green chalk, which she held out to him.

"Try it."

Cas tried to decline, telling her, "I wouldn't know what to draw.

"Just try. Something will come to you."

Hesitantly, Cas took the chalk. The woman smiled at him and then resumed her earlier task, leaving Cas to figure out what to do with the chalk.

Contrary to what the woman had said, he still couldn't think of anything to draw. He started at the chalk for a while, and Dean's eyes came to mind. Being as it was his only real piece of inspiration, Cas decided he might as well draw them.

He carefully sketched a large pair of eyes by his feet, adding detail from memory. The woman looked over at his progress after a time, and said, "They look great. Someone you know?"

Cas nodded.

"What do you see in them?" she asked.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean… when you look at that person, what do you see? Who are they? What's important to them? The eyes are the windows to the soul, you know."

That Cas did understand. There were a great many monsters who appeared human except for their eyes, which revealed their purgatory-bound souls. And, of course, the easiest way to identify and angel or demon was by glimpsing black or blue-lit eyes.

Cas stared back down at the eyes he'd drawn and thought of Dean. Dean was the first human he'd grown to know well enough to call him a friend. He taught Cas a lot about humanity, and about free will. He'd always viewed Dean as the very definition of human, with his emotions always so close to the surface…

Cas knew what to draw.

He focused in on the left eye first. He filled in the iris with green designs, rather than coloring it in, as he'd previously planned. Pain and hatred lived in that eye, flames and smoke consuming it.

In the right eye, however, Cas depicted love. Not those silly heart shapes, as humans visualized love, but with fireworks and sweeping grass and home. It was the light to the darkness of the left eye.

When he finished, he stepped back, and the woman stood with him to view the finished product. She regarded his work with curiosity and intrigue.

"They're…" she trailed off, apparently having lost her words. She looked at the left eye a bit closer, then at the right again. Her eyes gleamed. "I don't know what to say. It's heartbreaking."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because no one with such a caring heart should have to endure so much pain. That this is what you see in another's eyes… it's chilling. I'm really moved by this."

Cas shook his head, "No. Your work is stunning. It inspires. You have a very unique way of seeing things."

The woman looked at Cas with a small smile. He grinned back, then said, "Thank you for this. I wish that I could stay, but I should be getting back to the lair."

They bid each other goodbye, and then Cas walked off in search of a map.

But, before he left, he gave the woman a small gift. He protected her song against the effects of rain, creating a shield that would last as long as she lived. He would not soon forget her.

…

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	8. Breakfast with Castiel

_**Chapter 8:**_

_**Breakfast with Castiel**_

…

Sam woke up to a loud beeping noise.

A glance at the clock told him he'd only been asleep for 20 minutes, a fact confirmed by the length of his hair.

Not his alarm, then. Something else, but what?

He inhaled deeply and his eyes flew open, recognizing the potent smell of smoke. He shot out of bed and ran out of his room, ready for a fight.

But then he found the source of the problem.

"Cas? What are you doing?"

"I was trying to make breakfast," the angel replied sheepishly.

The smoke alarm was still going off and the kitchen was hazy, but at least there weren't any flames.

"What… what happened?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure. It might be the witch's doing. I only meant to thaw the meat, but it caught fire and then…" Cas trailed off, looking toward what _used_ to be the microwave.

Sam's eyes widened considerably, taking in the mess. The white microwave was now blackened and soaking wet, the door hanging open. Sam peered inside to find the interior was just as scorched. In the middle of the microwave were the charred remains of Cas's attempted breakfast. Sam noticed a small, silvery corner of something.

"Cas, when you stuck it in the microwave, was it wrapped in foil?"

"Yes. Why?"

Sam sighed and gestured the remains of the microwave. "That's why. You aren't supposed to put foil in the microwave. Ever."

"Oh."

Dean stalked in, looking perturbed. "What the hell is going on out here?"

"I was… cooking," Cas told him.

"Pie?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No. Breakfast."

Dean made a pouty face. "You should make pie."

Sam rolled his eyes, silently willing his brother to stop staring at Cas for two seconds and notice the state of the kitchen. "Can you do something about the noise?" he asked Cas.

Cas looked up at the smoke alarm above him and it ceased its beeping.

"Thank God," Dean muttered.

"Hey Cas, have you found anything useful in the book?" Sam asked.

"Not yet. I spent the majority of last night reading. I should continue. Perhaps you two should prepare breakfast."

He walked down the hallway towards the witch closet, Dean grinning after him. Sam turned to his brother and snapped his fingers to get his attention.

"Hey- Dean. Before Cas gets back I wanted to let you know I'm … I'm cool with it. You know, the whole you-and-Cas thing. Just… try to keep it down, okay? Just 'cause I'm cool with it doesn't mean I want to walk in on you guys doing God-knows-what."

Dean seemed mildly amused this and shot his brother a cheerful smile, "You got it, bro."

Cas came back in and sat down on the armchair, opening up the spellbook to a seemingly random page and reading from there.

Sam decided to take advantage of his early awakening and announced, "I'm going out for a run before the shop opens. I haven't been outside in… days."

Cas nodded approvingly. "That's a good idea. Perhaps you should take Dean with you; some fresh air might help him think."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Cas. Sure, "help him think". More like, "take him away before he starts flirting again".

Sam gave in anyway and his run turned into a slow jog because Dean kept getting distracted by every little thing like a dog on a walk. They had to cut their route short to make it back in time.

After being immediately assaulted by the smoky smell of Cas's attempted breakfast, San decided he's just have cereal. While he got out a bowl and spoon, Dean got the cereal and milk, apparently having decided to join him. Sam grabbed an extra bowl and spoon for his brother, and then they sat down on the couch, away from the hazy kitchen.

As they were eating, Dean said casually, "The sky is really gray today."

Sam made an affirming noise around a mouthful of Honey Nut Cheerios.

"I think all the blue went into your eyes, Cas."

Sam choked a little, stifling a laugh. Cas's head shot up at the sound of his name.

"What?" he asked, apparently oblivious to Dean's remark.

Dean simply winked. Cas looked at him suspiciously.

Sam couldn't help it now, he snorted and started laughing, diverting the attention of both angel and hunter.

"Have I done something humorous?" Cas asked.

Sam laughed even harder.

"You two idiots," he coughed out, "are going to be the death of me."

…

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	9. Problem Solved

**This is the second-to-last chapter. The last will be posted on Friday!**

**ENJOY!**

...

_**Chapter 9:**_

_**Problem Solved**_

…

The next day was quiet.

Of course, it had been quiet the day before, but that was different. After the cooking fiasco, they'd spent all day researching. Sam managed to convince Dean to help him search the rest of the closet, and they came up with nothing. Cas had managed to get through the entire spellbook, and he also found nothing. They'd been busy the day before, and it was a determined quiet that accompanied them.

Now that their hopes were dashed and their last leads useless, they weren't quite sure what to do. Now, there was just a solemn silence.

Cas grew tired of watching Sam pace back and forth. Apparently, Dean was effected by his brother's restlessness as well, because he returned to his room soon after eating breakfast without even flirting with the angel.

Not that Cas minded, of course; it was a welcome relief to be rid of the hunter's innuendo.

That said, he did miss Dean's ability to cut through the tension. He might even be okay with Dean's flirting if it helped lighten the gloomy mood.

As if the thought summoned him, Dean suddenly walked out of his room, yawning. Sam was busying himself with lunch, having found something useful to do, and Dean must have smelled it.

Sam looked up. "Good, you're up- I was just about to have Cas get you. I made hamburgers."

A smile split Dean's face and he bounded over, taking a seat at the small table looking happy.

"I made you one too, Cas," Sam told the angel.

Cas's head tilted slightly, a confused expression displayed in his features. "Sam, I'm an angel. I don't need to eat. Surely, you know that."

"Yeah, I know," came his answer. "I just thought maybe you'd like one. When we went after the horseman Famine, you couldn't get enough of them. Plus, I had too much hamburger for just two. You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

Cas took a moment to think about it, then decided, "I'll eat with you."

Sam smiled just a little, and Cas knew he was doing the right thing. Eating wouldn't hurt him, and if it made Sam feel better, he was all for it.

Sam made his way to the table, and Cas noted that his hair was tied back, to keep the loose strands away from the food. The ponytail sagged, as his hair had grown a good foot since he'd last adjusted it. And even tied back, it reached the middle of his back.

He stepped behind Sam and sheared off the hair with his angel blade, which he'd taken to doing whenever the younger hunter's hair got long. Sam almost seemed not to notice at all, until his watch went off at the beginning of each new hour to tell him to cut it.

Dean looked at Cas in an odd way, that Cas couldn't quite identify. It was a little like jealousy, but not quite. There was something else in his gaze, something sad. Cas hated that look.

As Sam went to throw away the hair, Cas made a split-second decision and sat next to Dean. Dean grinned widely, the previous look disappearing instantly. Cas smiled back at him warily, hoping he would keep his flirtation – and his hands – to himself.

Sam sat on the other side of the table, and set down several condiments. Dean put a generous amount of ketchup on his burger, while Sam used the mustard. Cas's eyes flicked between them for a moment before deciding to use a little of both.

The hamburger was good, though he expected it didn't taste to him like it did to humans. He tasted everything all at once. He felt the softness of the bread and the crunchiness of the lettuce. He tasted the sourness of the pickle, the sweetness of the ketchup, the smokiness of the meat. To be honest, it was a bit overwhelming, but he finished it anyway.

"Thank you," he told Sam. "It was very good."

Sam beamed like he'd won the lottery, and Dean chimed in, "This is amazing, Sammy. You should cook more often."

Sam blushed and said, "I'm just glad I didn't burn them."

Then he and Dean both looked at Cas, remembering the events of the previous morning, and they started laughing. Cas allowed an amused smile to grace his features. He wasn't above finding humor in his mistakes.

After everyone had finished (and Sam's hair had grown another foot or two), Sam made a decision.

"I think maybe we should call Garth."

Cas recognized the name, but he couldn't recall meeting the other hunter. He hadn't gotten the impression the Sam and Dean thought he was a very good hunter, but perhaps he'd misinterpreted them.

"Garth?" Dean scoffed. "What can he do that we haven't done already?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. I just think it might be good to have a fresh pair of eyes look at this."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, and Sam scowled.

"Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean returned.

Cas never understood that tradition of theirs.

"I'm gonna talk to Garth, have him come over, and then I'll spend a little time online."

"We have WiFi down here?" Dean asked, to which Sam simply shrugged.

"I'll clean up the kitchen," Cas offered.

"You don't have to do that."

"I insist, Sam. I'm perfectly capable."

Sam thanked him and headed off to his room to work.

Dean watched him for a few minutes, and then joined in. When Cas finished washing a dish, Dean dried it and set it aside to put it away. Then, while Cas cleaned off the table, Dean cleaned the counters.

Cas watched him curiously. He was still intoxicated by the spell, proven by his occasional fumbles, but his eyes were clear and determined, as if he'd grown tired of being useless and wanted to help.

"Thank you for your help," Cas mumbled when they finished, and then he went to sit on the couch.

Dean sat next to him, and it was only a moment before he said, "Have you ever been to Disneyland?"

"No."

Dean looked wistful, "I always wanted to go. People say it's the happiest place on earth, you know."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Suddenly a devilish grin appeared on his face. "Though, I can't imagine it could compete with being in your arms."

Cas sighed, "Dean, I would greatly appreciate it if you would cease your flirtations. It is difficult to enjoy your company when you do this. In any case, I will not be swayed by your… pick-up lines."

"Not at all?" Dean complained.

Cas shook his head firmly.

Dean frowned and grabbed Cas's wrist, placing his hand on his arm so that it touched his black tee shirt. "Come on, feel this. Do you know what that is?"

"Cotton."

"NO! It's_ boyfriend_ _material_."

"There is no such thing," Cas argued.

Dean groaned. "You're no fun."

Cas looked at him skeptically, and Dean's look of exasperation was replaced by one of amusement.

"You know, Cas. There is one way you could get me to be quiet."

He moved close to the angel, letting his hand graze Cas's thigh. Cas had to concentrate to keep his wings from shooting out, taking him to who-knows-where.

"Dean," he said in warning. "Sam is in the other room. And you are intoxicated."

"That didn't stop you before."

Cas tried to come up with a response, but didn't get a chance.

Sam walked in the room with his laptop, looking weirded out.

"Dean, were you using my laptop?"

"No," Dean said, "Why?"

"The screen is stuck on _Casa Erotica_."

"Which one?" Dean asked curiously.

"Does it matter?"

Then, there was a sudden displacement of air, creating the tiniest of breezes and then a figure standing in the middle of the room.

"I'm back, bitches!" sung the archangel Gabriel.

All three of the room's previous inhabitants gaped at him.

"Come on- isn't anyone gonna hug me?"

"Why aren't you dead?" Dean asked with confusion.

"I'm the _trickster_. Duh."

Sam's eyes widened a bit, "The spellbook was in Enochian. Was this… did you do this to us?"

"I was SO hoping you gonna figure it out, but it got old after a few days. Oh well."

"Gabriel, stop this," Cas demanded. "Whatever you're doing, it isn't funny."

"On the contrary, little brother, I find it hilarious," Gabriel retorted.

Cas glared at him, "Gabriel…"

The archangel held up his hands in mock defeat, "Alright, alright. Fine."

He snapped his fingers. Sam and Cas looked around, waiting for something to happen, and then Dean suddenly collapsed.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, running towards his unconscious brother.

"Now that's gonna be one hell of a hangover", Gabriel remarked. He glanced at Cas and added, "I expect I'll be seeing you again soon."

Then he vanished with the sound of great wings, and Cas scowled at the spot where he'd stood.

Sometimes he really hated his family.

…

**REVIEW! There's only ONE chapter left!**


	10. Aftermath

**This is it- the last chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it!**

…

_**Chapter 10:**_

_**Aftermath**_

…

That evening, Team Free Will celebrated the end of Gabriel's meddling.

Sam's hair was cut to a reasonable length, and he kept running his hands through it, making sure that it wasn't growing. He wanted to get it cut to its usual length, but decided to wait until Quest Car Detailing closed before leaving for a salon.

Dean was awake, wearing dark sunglasses even in the dimly lit room, and sipping some very hot coffee.

And Cas was flying from room to room, happily flexing his trusty wings. Every time he popped into a room with one or both of the boys, they yelled to him to knock it off, but he brushed their complaints off and continued the exercise. He felt liberated.

He landed in the living room and Sam announced from the couch, "The manager just left, so that's everyone. I'm gonna head out now. Don't cause trouble, you two."

Dean grunted and Cas nodded his understanding. Sam started up the stairs and Cas noticed something on the kitchen table. He grabbed it and took off to go upstairs, surprising Sam as he stepped out of the secret door in the janitor's closet. Cas grinned and handed him his wallet.

"Oh. Thanks, Cas."

Cas grinned and returned to the lair. His wings didn't feel quite so cramped anymore, so he sat down in the kitchen, next to Dean. He watched the hunter for a while.

"God, Cas, will you quit staring at me?" Dean complained, getting up to refill his coffee mug.

Cas apologized and redirected his gaze. Dean remained standing in the kitchen and there was a long, awkward silence.

Finally, Cas said, "How much do you remember?"

Dean stared at his mug. "Basically everything. It's just kind of hazy."

"Oh." Cas hesitated, then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Dean replied, feigning ignorance.

"You know what I mean, Dean. What happened between us."

Dean's jaw clenched. "No. I don't wanna talk about it. Ever."

They sat in silence for a while more, and Cas decided it would be better to get it over with, rather than let the weight simply hand between them without acknowledging it.

"You are a good kisser," he mentioned hesitantly. "Or, you seem to be. I don't have much experience."

Dean groaned. "Cas, I-"

"I understand that your intoxication may have greatly impaired your judgment," The angel interrupted. "My feelings will not be hurt if you do not wish to continue our previous endeavor."

Dean was quiet for a moment, then admitted, "I do. But I don't. I mean, it's YOU. And you're a guy. And I'm not... I'm not…"

He couldn't seem to bring himself to say the word, as if just saying it would taint his masculinity.

Cas frowned and said, "I have no gender, Dean. It's only the vessel I'm occupying. I don't fit into one of your miniscule categories. I am aware that it's a difficult concept to grasp."

Dean took a moment, sighed, and then said, "My head hurts."

Cas allowed his wings to take him over to Dean, accidently scaring the hunter, who took an unnaturally large drink of coffee that burned his mouth. He coughed and swore loudly.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, Cas. I'll live."

He took his sunglasses off and blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes. Then his eyes met Cas's, and the angel could see Dean's inner conflict. He wasn't quite sure which side was winning.

"I could make it better," Cas said, and it sounded a lot more like a sexual comment than he meant it to.

Dean's eyes widened a fraction, and they darted towards Cas's lips. Longingly.

"I… yeah. Okay."

Cas wasn't quite sure which way Dean meant that comment either.

Hesitantly, he lifted his hand to Dean's face, resting it on his jaw and brushing his thumb against his bottom lip. He looked into Dean's eyes again, and his heart thundered against his chest.

Deciding to go for it and forget the consequences, Cas leaned in and touched Dean's lips with his own. He could feel Dean's heartbeat going even faster than his own.

He felt Dean respond against Cas's lips, and the hunter's hands settled on his waist. Cas sighed in relief, and he linked his arms through Dean's so that they clutched his shoulders, pulling them closer together.

His mouth opened, Dean's parting with it, and Cas remembered his offer. While his tongue roamed the inside of Dean's warm mouth, tasting the coffee he'd just been drinking, Cas healed the burns he'd caused. It was, apparently, a turn-on, as it elicited a moan from the hunter.

Dean pulled away momentarily to breathe, which Cas realized he hadn't done in a while.

"Damnit, Cas," He said shakily. "Do you even have to breathe?"

"Not really," Cas admitted.

"God," Dean said huskily.

Cas frowned at the expression, but didn't correct it.

"You know what? I don't care anymore. Screw labels," Dean said, pressing his mouth to Cas's again.

Cas sighed happily into the kiss, and hoped Sam would take the long way back.

…

There was only one girl working at the hair salon, so Sam had to wait a while for her to do a few other people's hair. It was all worth it, though, when he felt his hair return to its proper state, just slightly swishing across his collarbone. He thanked the girl and tipped her generously, never having been so happy about a haircut in his life.

It took him about ten minutes to get back to the lair, at which point he realized he'd been gone for almost an hour. Hoping Dean and Cas wouldn't be too mad at his lengthy disappearance, he hurried inside.

The two of them were perched innocently on the couch, watching TV.

But Sam knew better.

Cas's hair was sticking up in unruly tufts, and he could hear Dean breathing heavily, though it was hushed. He imagined Cas had teleported them there when he heard the door open.

"I don't think I want to know what you two have been up to while I was gone."

"Nope," Dean said cheerily.

Sam rolled his eyes and asked, "I don't suppose you managed to pack up your stuff…?"

"Nope."

Sam shook away the mental images that came to mind and said, "We should get started so we can get the hell out of here."

Dean groaned and got up to gather his things. Cas stood as well, perhaps to "help".

Just then, they heard the door to the lair open. All three whirled around, suddenly realizing they didn't have guns on them.

But it was just Garth.

"Hey guys. Sorry I'm late, I ran into some traffic."

His gaze darted around, stopping at Sam's rather normal-length hair and Dean's sober gaze. Everything seemed pretty normal.

His eyebrows scrunched just slightly.

"What'd I miss?"

…

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Tell me what you think!**

**P.S. I'm watching season 10 of Supernatural and just recently watched the 200****th**** episode, "Fan Fiction". It gave me a great story idea, so I'm already starting another Destiel story. It's called "**_**Perspective**_**" and I'm hoping to start posting early next month. Here's the synopsis:**

_**After Calliope's defeat, Dean admits to Marie, "This has been educational – seeing the story from your perspective." But what exactly did Dean learn from "Supernatural: The Musical"? Could it be that the idea of Destiel struck something in him? My own take on what could have happened after 10x05 ("Fan Fiction"), in which Dean really wants to forget about the whole Destiel thing and Sam can't help but bring it up all the time. And then the angel himself visits and Dean hopes to God that Sam shuts up so he doesn't have to explain it to Cas. But Sam is still his annoying little brother, and he has no intention of letting this go. **_


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